


1 - Zayn

by Grand Buzz (quodpersortem)



Series: What A Wasters - 1D Wanklets [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: (weed), Bathtub Sex, Implied Selfcest, Masturbation, Other, Recreational Drug Use, Solo, kind of, slight experimentation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-23
Updated: 2014-06-23
Packaged: 2018-02-05 23:18:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1835848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quodpersortem/pseuds/Grand%20Buzz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everyone gets turned on by Zayn, right? </p><p>Well, so does Zayn. Which is good because he gets to have sex with his own hand on a frequent base, although it must be said some times are better than other times. This is one of the best ones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1 - Zayn

Zayn stubs out the blunt he’d been smoking in the ashtray.

Of course, he knows he’s not supposed to smoke weed inside. According to the hotel’s rules, he’s not supposed to be in the possession of any illegal substances or intoxicating substances or probably have sex or— _anything_ fun really.

The various stains in the carpet prove that plenty of people have broken the rules before him.

Now the harshness of the world has been lazily dulled, and a curtain of heavy bass lines and arousal overpowers it. The water is running in the bathroom; he’s got some or other oil burning in a little tray that spreads a pleasantly woody scent through the room, mingling perfectly with the slightly sharp scent of weed and tobacco.

Music’s playing; he’s not entirely sure what it is, the radio station running without a DJ at two AM and probably three listeners in the entire city.

The bath’s half full when he walks into the bathroom, because halfway through his smoke he’d decided he wanted some more leisure time after. He takes the time to pour in bubbles from the bottle left on one of the ledges, emptying the sample bottle at once while he scratches at his stomach.

The shirt glides pleasantly over his skin and Zayn closes his eyes for a moment, hand dipping lower and into his pants to scratch at the coarse hair growing there, before he pulls away again. Everything feels better, right now, tension seeping from his muscles even as he just stands there, tiles cold against his feet, wondering whether to keep on the music or turn it off.

In the end, he settles for leaving it on, but with the bathroom door opened so he can still hear the lyrics, when there are any.

Then he pulls off his shirt, slowly, stretching his arms up as he goes and keeping them up for a moment after dropping the shirt to the floor.

He takes a moment longer for his pants. He’d only been wearing underwear, the hotel room warm enough and the couch soft enough. Now they’re tenting at the front, and Zayn trails two fingers along the line of his semi before he hooks his thumbs under the elastic band and pulls them down.

The unpleasant feeling that comes from the head of his dick hooking behind the cloth before snapping free isn’t really that unpleasant right now.

Then he steps into the bath, shuddering a little at the heat of the water, and turns off the tap before he lies down in the tub.

Zayn takes a couple of deep breaths, getting used to the heat and the water surrounding him. It reaches up to his ribs, leaving his chest bare to the air, suddenly cold, so he curls his back and as a result the water sloshes around in the tub pleasantly, tickling him in _just_ the right way.

His hand finds his dick easily, but instead of grabbing it he presses his palm against his balls, rolling them against his body while he squeezes his legs together.

A grunt escapes Zayn’s lips, and normally he’d be embarrassed but he’s stoned and his cheeks are flushed with sex and heat and it’s _fine_ now somehow.

Kinda sexy, really, the way it echoes around the little room.

It doesn’t take long, massaging his balls, before he’s hard. He pushes up his hips so they’re above the water and looks down, observing the picture he makes: olive skin, dark hair and dark ink, cock hard and flushed purple at the tip where it lays heavily against his stomach.

With a huff he sags back down, gasping at the water flushing past his dick.

Zayn still doesn’t touch it. Instead he spreads his legs wide, trailing his fingertips up and down the sensitive skin until he’s shivering. A couple of times he sneaks them lower, underwater, between his bum, but even the idea makes the tips of his ears burn so he doesn’t follow through.

Then he moves on to his abs, keeping his touch light as he watches his muscles tremble under his skin, his chest moving up and down faster than usual as more blood flushes to his cock.

His neck’s next. Wet fingers glide over his skin and when he closes his eyes, he can pretend it’s someone else, but Zayn’s not sure if he _wants_ to. He’s perfectly content with himself right now, high and turned on and in a hot bath and life, no matter how much fun his life usually is, doesn’t get a lot better than that.

So when he sucks his fingers into his mouth, swallowing away the soapy taste, he doesn’t only think of what a tongue would feel like on his dick but also about what a dick would feel like on his tongue right now.

It sends another shiver down his spine, his hips bucking up a little and water sloshing around. He circles his right hand around the base of his erection, leaving it there so it moves incrementally when he shifts around in the bathtub, tongue working over the two fingers in his mouth, teeth scraping at the soft pads at the tips before he licks between them, groaning at the spitslick feeling of them against his lips.

Finally he pulls them out, leaving his mouth empty as he gently touches his fingers to the tip of his dick, so sensitive that it makes him twitch right away, legs pulling up on their own accord even as he tries to stay still.

Zayn gently rubs at the smooth skin, digging his finger a little into the slit in response to which a dribble of precome pushes out.

His stomach muscles are still working, tensing and relaxing with the waves of pleasure that come from just the two fingers he has around the base of his dick and the other two pressed against the tip.

Unlike the other lads, he’s been circumcised, but the slightly soapy water eases the way as he forms a tight circle with his right hand and drags it down his erection. The pleasure is instant and sharp this time around, so he moves up his free hand to pinch his nipples.

More precome comes bubbling from the tip, and he scoops it up with his finger to help ease the way. Zayn’s always liked sex a little rough—likes most things a little rough, just the right edge of pain and overstimulation as he starts jerking off in earnest.

It’s not going to last long now, of course it’s not.

He’s too keyed up, his breath coming fast as he watches his hand work over his dick, his other pushing further down to tug at his tightening balls but he doesn’t have it in him to take his hands off his erection, keeps going until he’s running hotter, feeling better—

Reaches that point of no return that leaves him gasping with his legs spread as wide as they can go, half up on his elbows because his muscles are tensing up in preparation of climax—

Then he’s spilling over his fingers, spunk shooting up his belly and chest as his hips push up in time with the pulses, heartbeat drowning out any other sound in the room for a hot moment where he forgets to think—

His entire body relaxes back into the bathtub.

Zayn closes his eyes, takes a moment to catch his breath as he leans his head back against the cool porcelain.

He takes a moment to drag his fingers through the mess on his chest and belly, slick and sticky as it starts to dry, before he scoops up water to wash it off.

He doesn’t bother with a shower to wash off the now-dirty water’s remnants, just pulls the plug and lets the tub empty out while he towels himself off and makes his way out of the bathroom and to the bed. Not bothering to get dressed, Zayn slips between the sheets.

Belatedly, he realises the radio is still on, but he’s too tired to get out of bed now. Too comfortable, settled in under the duvet and about to fall asleep. The candle that had been heating the oil has gone out on its own.

He’ll make do, he figures, stretching and yawning before settling back down and flicking off the lights.

 

[end]

**Author's Note:**

> ...so as the information in the header suggests, this post is the first in a series of wankfic(let)s about the boys :)


End file.
